I have fond memories of "The Dog," the Farfel episode of Seinfeld (ROOROOROO, SHUT UP, FARFEL, Prognosis Negative, etc), mainly because Farfel is the best dog name ever, and if I ever get a dog, I would be very tempted to name him Farfel (which, I have just learned from Wikipedia, is some sort of unappetizing Jewish food–big suprise there. I also learned from Wikipedia something about Kafka I didn’t know, which is that he apparently invented the civilian use of the hard hat–I don’t know what this says about my dearth of Kafka knowledge. Have I mentioned recently that I now personally know Stanley Corngold and had exactly one conversation with him once? And he didn’t say anything about hard hats, though we were talking about the suburbs at the time). However, I will never get a dog because I don’t enjoy committing canicide, which is what I would probably do eventually because I have recently discovered that I don’t have too much patience for dogs when one is inexplicably barking outside my window at 3 a.m. "You know the solution for that," says my dad. "Death." This is a man who once suggested a panhandling hippie in Eugene "eat [his] dog" (this was during the hippies-with-puppies epidemic of 1992-3), and who calls for the unceremonious beheading of any animal who even halfway wrongs his children (when my gerbil bit me when I was 8, my minor tantrum was met with the proclamation, "CUT ITS FUCKING HEAD OFF!"), as long as that animal is not a cat, in which case the human idiotic enough to get in the way of the cat "just being a cat" deserves whatever he gets. This Farfel-inspired trip down memory lane is a little bit muddled because I was up 3/4 of the night listening to the incessant barking of some almost-dead dog. Do I have the potential to revise this into something that makes sense? Prognosis negative.